Our Cat has Nine Lives

FEBRUARY 18–Walnut Brains

I have been trying to write a post since the holidays, but there’s not much to say, except, it’s getting hard!! We’re two years into this, which seems impossible. Two years ago, when it was clear that Caitlin was finally going to need a lung transplant, I thought to myself: Okay!Let’s get this over with so our lives can get back to normal!

The universe is still laughing at me. I hope it stops laughing soon. But it seems we are living in crazy times. Caitlin recounts a recent dream:

“We were home in Ashland. I was upstairs, sick, and Donald Trump came to visit. He was nice at first, but then he started insulting me. “Only losers stay sick! I would have gotten better a long time ago! I would have gotten that transplant a long time ago, and it would’ve been the best transplant, better than anyone else’s!” At first we were all just dealing with him, out of some weird politeness, but then I thought, I don’t have to take this shit, and I rose up and bellowed at him at the top of my lungs and voice (which were both working well): “Get the hell out of my house! Now!” and he clammed up as I stared him down and pointed the way to the door.”

Every day is an effort for our kitten. In addition to lung problems, she’s got heart issues, blood sugar issues, headaches, body aches. The cold weather doesn’t help. When it’s super cold, the valves on the antiquated oxygen tanks can freeze, so she has to stay cooped up. Cabin fever produced yesterday’s silliness:

Oh Henry oh Henry how lucky are you!

Your brain’s the size of a walnut;

you’ve got nothing to do.

Nowhere to go and nowhere to be,

in many ways you are also like me.

But your walnut brain keeps you happy, content,

whereas mine leaves me sometimes needing to vent.

I’d trade with you for an hour, or maybe even a day.

Just to see what it’s like to live the pup way…..

It might be easier to have a walnut brain for a day, but she doesn’t; she has an overactive, optimistic brain that wants to get back to life. We know she will.

Recently, she had a good idea–that we should stop saying, ‘We are waiting for our daughter to get a transplant.’ No. We now say, ‘We are here to get a transplant.’

So that’s our plea to all who send prayers, good energy, thoughts, etc. each day. Here’s our mantra: Caitlin is ready and in good shape for her transplant.

My hope for Caitlin is that she is surrounded by universal love and that all our positive loving thoughts go straight to her consciousness to help her remain as positive as possible and visualise those lungs arriving and all going according to plan. Stay strong Caitlin the universe loves you so much and believe that with all your heart. Love and lots of it from Alan and Mary, your Irish friends.

In a weird way, I wish I could give her my lungs and heart. But, then I guess I’d lose myself and my life and I’m just starting to live all over again with a grandchild so I don’t want to let that part go…but I want, more than anything, for sweet Caitlin to have a life. Like mine. Like she should have. I am sad and I am hopeful. Please, let some blessed soul go and give Caitlin her life…